


Set In Stone

by EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix



Series: Set In Stone [1]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: All aboard the Feels train, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Idk how far it will go, And nothing has happened yet, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bc I’m already at 23 chapters, Corruption, Dark Jim, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jim becomes evil because I’m a sucker for that trope, Jim you doofus, Jlaire snuggles, No beta reader, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Slow Romance, TP is best bro, Torture, We Die Like Men, honestly, now with update schedule!, taht I haven’t yet posted, this might be the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written, updates every tuesday, “Taht” wow look at that typo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-06-01 00:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix/pseuds/EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix
Summary: AU where the showdown between Jim and Nomura occurs WAY LATER in the season, long after Claire knows about the trolls, and Jim is known as a serious danger to the Dark Ones.What if Claire and Toby hadn’t arrived on time, and Bular and the Impure had gotten Jim. And what if they realized that they needed Jim to put the amulet in Killahead of his own will.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfic, on Ao3 or anywhere, and I hope y'all like it. I'm going to be updating this every few days (hopefully), but I have to focus on homework too, so sorry if I can't do that. K', I started writing this fic before S2, and as such it is NOT a Darklands fic, but it shall be equally (if not more) angsty.
> 
> Shoutout to EarthboundJedi, their fic "Eclipsing Daylight" inspired me to finish this. ~~check their fic out, it's REALY good~~
> 
> NOW without further ado, let's get started!

“Not kill, take!” Those were the last words the Trollhunter heard before Nomura slammed the butt of her scimitar into his head. Perhaps they would be the last words he would ever hear, she thought with a chuckle, snickering at how easy it was to incapacitate the feeble human. Their flesh was so impractical; soft and easy to cut. Of course, that was what made them so delicious, at least to most trolls. Nomura herself never ate human if she could help it, but there was the rare occasion when a situation called for it... But now was not the time to think of eating. Nomura shook her head, and grabbed the human’s arm. She straightened up, slinging the unconscious boy over her shoulder. The Troll armor he wore glowed softly, casting a blue light on the she-troll’s face, but Nomura ignored it. She made her way towards the cavern where Bular had hidden the goblin gate. Eurgh, goblins. The nasty little creatures had never been Nomura’s favorite, and she had actually rejoiced when the Trollhunter finished them all off. Not only did it mean that she would get to play with him a little too, but there were that fewer goblins infesting the world. Unfortunately, they were necessary to the plan. Their small bodies and ability to climb on ceilings was just right for getting into those hard to reach places. And besides, they needed manual labor for the actual construction of the bridge. It wasn’t like the Changelings or Bular would be the ones supplying that. Still, she hated the little suckers, and the feeling was mutual. A longstanding enmity between goblins and the Impure had panned put into many fights, and even minor wars, over the centuries, and the two races were constantly competing for the Dark Lord’s favor. Thankfully, the Changeling Hordes were still listed higher in Gunmar’s good book than the slimy green monkeys, Nomura chuckled to herself. Unconsciously, she raised her right arm and placed it over her heart, making a fist with her thumb and little finger extended; the sign of Gunmar. Such is his reign; merely thinking his name required tribute, tribute that was drilled into all his troops till they performed it without conscious thought.

In the distance, Nomura heard shouts. She could just make out the voices of the Trollhunter’s friends calling after him. They had arrived too late to save “Jim”, but knowing the nature of heroes, they would probably start a search immediately. Ha, the little fools could look for days and they would never realize where their friend was! Hiding Killahead in the museum was a stroke of genius on her part. After their escapade with Vendel and the viking ship she had planted, they didn’t suspect a thing, leaving the Impure to complete their work in peace. And a goblin gate could only be opened by the meddlesome monsters themselves. There was no way, either in this earth or on it, that the other “Trollhunters” would discover the whereabouts of James Lake, Jr.

Nomura grunted, shifting the weight of her quarry onto her other shoulder. She reached the mouth of the cave, and peered into its depths. Although she was certain this was the location of the gate, one could never be too careful. Several weeks ago, Stricklander discovered a pair of human whelps “making out” right next to the gate. Upon interrogation, it turned out they thought the rock was “cool-looking” and “romantic”. Of course, they had to be disposed of, as Stricklander had happened upon them in his true form; the disgustingly satisfied look on the goblins’ faces that day had repulsed Nomura. Despite everything, Changelings were part human, and they were rather empathetic towards fleshlings. Part of the reason so many of their kind went on to become teachers, and museum faculty.

Her harsh green gaze was at last returned by a pair of bobbing yellow slits. A goblin crawled out of the blackness, its reflective eyes illuminating the round, green body. It straightened up and growled something, gesturing towards the Trollhunter. Nomura stared down at the creature with disgust etched on her features, and scoffed. No goblin was going to tell her what to do. Nomura stepped agilely over the nasty thing, and lugged the child into the cavern. The pulsing stone glowed with several sickly colors, and a group of five goblins swarmed over it, protecting and tending to the gate. Doubtless, there were several more of their kin lurking beyond the light of the elendirig boulder. They bared their teeth at the tall she-troll, but she flashed her glinting canines at them, and they quieted. Glancing behind her once more, the Changeling extended a slender magenta arm to the stone, and with a flash of light, Nomura, the goblins, the Trollhunter and the elendirig all disappeared into the dark. 

 

Toby was screaming. He been trying to stop for the past hour, or so, but knowing where Jim was, knowing what must be happening at this exact moment? In fact, Jim might already be… he might… he could be…

No. Toby refused to believe that. He swallowed hard and choked back his cries. If Bular had wanted to kill Jim, he’d have had his minion do it in the forest, instead of abduct hi-… but, what if Bular only took him alive so he himself could finish the job? NO! No no no no no no NO! Toby shook his head to dislodge the treacherous thoughts bumping around in there. Instead, he turned to the safer route: thinking about Claire. Thank God they decided to tell her about trolls all those weeks ago. She had been first on the scene, and her quick thinking managed to keep the existence of trolls a secret. Claire had made up that story about the coyotes and she managed to erase any traces of goblin goop (Toby had no idea _how_ in such a short amount of time; those little suckers were hard to clean up after). Unfortunately, she was detained by the cops, for a short while, at least; after all, a teenager, alone in the woods, found at the exact place where screams, shouts, and strange lights were causing a disturbance? The police were more than a bit suspicious, but thankfully they didn’t suspect anything more than a group of kids messing around with fireworks. God, Toby hoped Claire was going to be okay. He felt a little guilty for hiding in the bushes while she took the blame, and that feeling was amplified when he saw Claire’s parents marching into the police cruiser to accompany their daughter to the station (they looked **incredibly displeased** , Toby swore Mrs. Nuñez had smoke coming out of her ears and Mr. Nuñez was practically shooting lasers from his eyes). But someone had to hide Aaarrrgghh!!!, and then let Blinky and Vendel know what happened. And when Toby saw that Jim was gone, that he had somehow vanished from the scene, things didn’t register. It was like time stopped, and nothing made sense. He would probably have just gotten in the way and made things worse, like he always did. However, if Toby didn’t find a way to hide Jim’s disappearance soon, things really **would** be a whole lot worse. Although no one knew that Jim had even been out in the woods, it would only be a matter of time till cops were crawling over the forest if news of Jim being gone leaked out. Rescuing him would be made even harder than before, not to mention Toby and Claire would probably be under constant supervision. Being the best friend of James Lake, Jr. was not being rewarding tonight.

Toby took a big breath and turned around to face an approaching pair of footsteps. A concerned Vendel faced him. Toby wiped his face, and asked “What do you want?” He hadn’t meant that sentence to sound so threatening, yet he made no attempt to apologize.

The old troll looked slightly taken aback at the young human’s tone, but it was to be expected. Vendel knew that the Trollhunter and young Tobias were inseparable, excellent friends, true to the very end. The capture of the Trollhunter must be affecting the boy more severely than most. He winced as the boy continued to glare at him, eyes red and puffy. Vendel had no clue how to react in such a situation; even if human psychology hadn’t been completely different from that of a troll’s, Vendel usually left the job of comforting to others. He had a bad habit of putting things in a painfully plain light, which gave him a very pessimistic appearance. In truth, he was just awkward, and millennia of watching friends and family die (and being the one to send said friends and family to their deaths) had hardened him further. Nevertheless, Vendel felt he had to do something in this situation, and so he made his way over to the boy. Toby was thoroughly surprised when wizened old Vendel patted him on the shoulder, and in a comforting voice said, “Uh, there there, young Domzalski. All will be well. We shall recover the Trollhunter, but we cannot do so by sitting here on our behinds. Would you care to accompany me to the war council in effect now?”

Toby nodded slowly, and stood up from the rock bench he was sitting on. Wiping his nose, he followed Vendel out of Blinky’s library. Vendel was right. Everything would be okay. They would get Jim back. _**Toby**_ would get Jim back. And then they would kill Bular — together.

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘IT’S NOT WORKING’?!?!” Bular glared down at the cowering Impure before him. The sniveling creature was a temporary replacement while Strickler was on a mission, and the cowardly gray snot was practically incapable of doing anything even remotely useful. Thus far, he had lost three crates of bridge stones, and lost numerous goblins under his command. Bular was on his last straw, and this did it.

“I-I-I mean i-it’s not w-working, your Lordship. The amulet will not open the bridge!”

“RAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!” Bular slammed his fist down on a small boulder, shattering it instantly. The Impure winced as a shard of rock skittered towards him. He gulped, and looked back up at his master.

“Without the amulet, the portal will not open at all! There is no other way, and now that we have finally acquired Merlin’s pathetic charm you tell me, _that the amulet doesn’t work_?!” His eyes began to smolder, burning with a fierce light that told no good for his underlings.

“T-that is n-n-not _entirely_ true, my lord. T-the amulet will open the bridge, b-b-but t-t-there is something it n-needs to work, my Lord,” he stuttered. Bular leaned forward, almost touching the other troll’s face with his own.

“Yes?”

The Changeling gulped, praying that his information was correct. He tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth, only a small squeaking noise came out, like a strangled mouse. He cleared his throat and stepped back, wiping his sweaty brow.

“W-w-we b-believe that the b-boy is the key,” stammering, the Impure tried to calm his fast beating heart before he passed out. He had a feeling that it would not promote his image.

“I-if the T-trollhunter places the amulet in the bridge, i-it may activate the portal,” the Impure winced, expecting a blow from the evil overlord, but it never came. He glanced up, and saw the giant troll exhale, then throw his head back and bark a shout of laughter.

“HA! Is that all? We had discovered that several months ago. Well then, we shall simply continue with the plan; eventually, he _will_ be forced to do our bidding. That pathetic fleshbag cannot hope to withstand my might!”

“Er, y-yes, your s-strength truly is p-prodigious, my l-lord, but there is a slight _catch_...” The Changeling yelped as a stone claw the size of a Vespa hit him. Bular slammed the Impure against the cavern wall, and increased the pressure on his windpipe. The hulking black Gumm-Gumm grew tired of the Impure’s games, and he would force a straight answer out of the mewling quim if he had to drag it out of its _throat_.

“WHAT,” he growled, “does THAT mean? ANSWER ME!!”

Struggling to breathe, the smaller troll was slow to respond, but with great difficulty he managed to choke out, “The Trollhunter, must put amulet in the bridge of his own free will — you cannot blackmail him, or force him to do it, he must make the decision on his own - believe that what he is doing is truly for the best!”

Bular’s eye twitched, and he roared, tightening his grip as the Changeling squirmed in his grasp. With a final shudder, the troll went limp, and crumbled into a pile of granite. Bular glanced down at the pile with malice. Granite. Such a low-class stone. He shook the crumbs of his servant off of his glinting claws, and stomped back into the center of the room. He paused in the middle, and an odd gleam came into his eyes. He chuckled, and then began roaring with a hysterical, insane laughter. The two guards standing outside the cavern looked at each other in concern, and shuddered. Whenever Bular was this happy, someone else was about to have a really bad day.

 

Jim heard an echoing roar in the distance. It had been a few hours since he woke up, a throbbing lump on his head, and stripped of his armor. In his initial disoriented state, Jim had not noticed that he was chained to the wall. When he tried to run to the door, the chains restraining him snapped back, and with sickening crack his leg fractured. After that, all Jim could do was sit against the wall and try not to black out. He had yet to see anyone, or anything, else, but that was fine by Jim. He shifted his arms, trying for the umpteenth time to pull free of his shackles, but these were obviously custom made with him in mind; no troll had arms this thin. There would be no escaping from these. The thick metal bands cut into his wrists as he lowered his arms again. Jim looked around, hoping against hope that he had overlooked some small corner of the cell he was in. That perhaps there was something he could use to pick the locks, hidden in the dark recesses of the room. Unfortunately, as with his previous searches, there was nothing. Not that he could have escaped; even if, somehow, he managed to get free of his restraints, and then the cell, he didn’t have the amulet, and he couldn’t walk. There was no way he could fight his way out of here. For crying out loud, he didn’t even know where “here” was! Jim slumped against the wall, and tried to keep his breathing steady. He couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now; he needed his wits about him to have any possibility of escape.

“10, 9, 8, 7,” slowly, he began counting backwards, attempting to calm his rapid heart rate. Not many people knew, but Jim was severely claustrophobic. Trollmarket, and most of the other troll caves he had been in were wide and spacious, despite being underground, so it had never come up before. Jim doubted anyone other than Toby and his mother knew about it. The last time he had a serious panic attack was in the fourth grade, when he got trapped in a storage closet in the hospital Jim’s mother was working at. He was stuck in the stifling darkness for three hours before someone found him, crying and shaking uncontrollably. Jim had experienced a few incidents since then, but none as bad. Unfortunately, the cell he was trapped in now was one of the smallest rooms he had ever been in, and Jim didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He was almost hoping that someone would open the door; almost.

As if in answer to his thoughts, he heard footsteps nearing the cell, and then the rattle of keys. Jim tried to collect himself before the door opened. He scrambled to get into a fighting stance, but when he put weight on his broken leg, it shuddered violently and buckled underneath him. The sound of a bolt unlocking brought Jim’s attention to the door, his body quivering in anticipation and fear. A pair of glowing green eyes and two glinting scimitars greeted him. A sinking feeling in his heart told Jim he would be longing to be locked back in this cramped, dark cell soon enough.

“Wakey wakey, Fleshling,” Nomura flashed her sharp canines in a grin. She met the boy’s stare, and watched as his pupils dilated with fear. Oh, she would enjoy breaking this human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God. I have severely underestimated summer chemistry. Never again. Anyway, I have finally completed Chap 2! ~~Beware, this is shameless Toby angst and Troll dad Blinky.~~

One month.

Toby stopped as he felt a tremor run through the ground. Nervously, he glanced around, checking for anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any damage to the waves of stalls he could see, but Trollmarket spanned out farther than his sight. Peering up, he watched as a few smaller stalagmites fell off of the ceiling of Heartstone Trollmarket, although it didn’t seem like they were aimed towards any of the heavier populated areas, or any of the important buildings in Market. Toby looked around once more, and with a nervous eye kept on the ground, continued on his way.

He was hurrying towards another war council, and he was already late.

To any outsiders, Trollmarket looked perfectly normal. There were no throngs of panicking trolls, no barricaded homes or evacuated houses, despite the exponentially greater threat of the Gumm-Gumm Army. In fact, if one were to look even closer, they would realize that most civilians did not even know about the disappearance of the Trollhunter. The High Council decided to keep the vulnerability of Trollmarket to a need to know basis. If news got out, there could be widespread hysteria, and the natural paranoia of the subterranean dwelling creatures was sure to spiral out of control. Not to mention a gossiping troll, like Bagdwella, could accidentally reveal the compromised situation of Trollmarket to an opposing community. Not all of Trollkind saw eye-to-eye, and if any more enemies caught wind of the news... well, Trollmarket wouldn’t last a week. Many of the Elders still remembered what the reign of Gunmar had been like; trolls did not know who to trust, where they could turn without expecting a dagger in between their shoulder blades. The Changeling hordes only made things worse. Trolls could no longer feel safe among humans either, or as safe as they ever felt among fleshbags. An innocuous glance from a passing human could suddenly bring the desolation of Gunmar the Black upon your village. Thus, the capture of the Trollhunter was only discussed behind double-barred doors and in hushed voices. If you weren’t meant to hear of it, you never would.

The high levels of secrecy ensured that only a select few understood why the number of fissures and small earthquakes had increased dramatically over the past four weeks. As the Trollhunter’s best friend (and a witness to his kidnapping), Toby was privy to this information and regularly attended meetings between the heads of the friendly Troll clans. And being the sole liaison to the human world currently residing in Trollmarket, Toby was a valued member of the emergency council. After that night, Toby began living in Trollmarket full time. Even though he loved his Nana, and it hurt him to leave her all alone, Toby was already spending all his time in Trollmarket looking for ways to get Jim back. His Nana wouldn’t notice anyway, so he made the transition permanent. Toby couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to school. The official story as to why Toby and Jim were missing from school was a trip; they’d gone to visit Jim’s father in Washington, DC. This was a blatant lie, of course, but no one knew or cared enough to check whether a “James Lake, Sr.” even lived in DC. Unfortunately, Jim’s absence could not be explained away so easily to one person. Unable to find a way to hide Jim’s absence from his mother, Toby (along with a rather flustered Blinky and Aaarrrgghh!!), told Dr. Lake about the society of trolls living underneath Arcadia, and of the current whereabouts of her son. That had been a difficult conversation, and Dr. Lake hadn’t been to work since.

Toby’s footsteps echoed loudly down the corridor he was running along, hurrying to get to the council. He was running late, having gone to check on Dr. Lake an hour before. It was to be expected that she would want to assist in the effort to rescue Jim, but the trolls were still distrustful of her. Children were easier to confide in; even if they told someone, who would believe a kid? Dr. Lake, on the other hand, was a PhD sporting doctor, and a well respected figure in the Arcadia Oaks community. If she were to let something slip, it could end badly for a lot of creatures, both human and troll. Nevertheless, Blinky’s ‘earnest’ persuading convinced Vendel and the rest of the council about Barbara’s helpfulness. Her position as the mother of the Trollhunter also vouched for her. Finally, the Elders conceded to allow Dr. Lake to help in small ways. Of course, she was not permitted in Trollmarket, so she was forced to assist in the preparations from the surface. Barbara had helped conceal Jim’s secret, and confirmed the story about he boys’ ‘trip’ to D.C., and was serving as a human confidante, watching all known Changelings, and keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.

Panting, Toby reached the cave of leaders, and stood in the doorway, hanging onto a stray stalagmite, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m, hah, here, hah, what, did I miss?” He gasped. Vendel motioned for the young human to take a seat.

“Not much, young Domzalski, our meeting has not yet begun in earnest. You arrived just in time- Gatto was about to begin without you,” the wizened old troll replied, with a pointed look in the direction of the giant Troll.

Gatto was much less threatening as a heap of floating rocks, but Toby still skirted around the glowering face. Toby got the distinct feeling that Gatto had never, and would never, forgive him for dropping a Mega Trinidad Scorpion Burrito with spicy sour cream and pastrami down his throat (Toby would always regret that as well; a perfectly good burrito wasted, and he would never get the smell of Gatto’s indigestion out of his vest), although it had been necessary to unlock the Eclipse Armor.

“Humph. If the human is late, it is by no fault of mine,” the massive troll intoned. “Forgive me if I have better things to spend my time with than waiting for pathetic Fleshbag whelps that seem to have no sense of urgency.”

Toby bristled, and was prepared to defend his timing, but Blinky waved a dismissive arm.

“Now now Gatto, Tobias is here now, and that is what matters. Let us commence with the meeting,” Blinky called. He and Aaarrrgghh!! were sitting across from Toby, and Aaarrrgghh!! gave his wingman a wink. Toby smiled back tiredly, and turned to face the rest of the elders in the room.

“Has the Trollhunter’s mother reported anything? It is my understanding that you visited her just today,” the tall and slender she-troll reminded Toby of Nomura every time he saw her. Toby unconsciously winced as he remembered the vicious assassin. He brought his gaze back to the elder.

“Not really. The town’s been pretty quiet, according to Dr. Lake. Nothing major’s going on, although there was something weird she noticed.”

“And what would that be, child?” Another of the troll leaders leaned forward, peering into Toby’s face.

“Most of the Changelings moved out of Arcadia. Dr. L’s been noticing the moving signs for the past week, but she just assumed it was a coincidence until she realized that there was pretty much only one Changeling left in Arcadia; that one old guy on the farm, way out on the outskirts. There’s a bunch of job openings now, and empty houses everywhere,” many of the leaders looked alarmed at this news, so Toby continued. “But there was a bunch of definitely NON-Changelings that also moved; Dr. Lake says it’s called “spring fever” or something,” Toby ended with a shrug, but he too had a worried expression.

“It’s probably nothing, but just in case, we should look into it,” Toby finished with an expectant look at the council.

“Hmm, yes, perhaps an investigation is necessary. If the Changelings are holding a mass evacuation, they may be heading to a rendezvous location. If Bular succeeds in amassing an army of that scale, I shudder to think what he could accomplish,” Blinky, true to his words, shivered visibly upon saying that.

“I can oversee the investigation; my people have taken in reformed Changelings before in turn for service. They are stationed across the continent. If any of their murderous brethren show up, we will know,” Usurna, another she-troll, stated. In Toby’s mind, she was possibly the most imposing of the leaders, apart from Vendel, of course. Aside from looking like a real queen (I mean, Toby thought those glowy things were pretty badass, and she was really muscular), Queen Usurna was the most imperial and commanding Troll— scratch that, person, Toby had ever come in contact with. Immediately after Jim’s disappearance, she had begun preparing for war, moving herself, and her personal guard to Trollmarket until ‘the threat was neutralized’. She took command of the Troll Army, and began training them up to mirror her own formidable Kruberan militia. Usurna had organized an emergency task force, comprised of elite warriors from across the troll nations. Draal was the acting general of this unit, and he was tasked with the protection of civilization, both human and troll. As everyone was constantly reminded, under no circumstances could the humans learn of the existence of trolls. Even though they were now operating under the increased threat of Bular, not to mention the escape of Gunmar, secrecy was still very important. Perhaps it was more important than ever. With the looming danger of the last four weeks, the last thing Trollkind needed was the human government breathing down their necks.

Even though Usurna had been one of the most helpful to their cause, Toby felt an odd twinge whenever he looked at her. Call it intuition, call it simple dislike, whatever it was, Toby didn’t trust the glowing she-troll. There was something very off about her.

“Council adjourned,” Vendel rose from his seat, and the rest of the Tribunal members followed. Toby was still staring at Usurna when a hand on his shoulder made him jump. The boy turned around to see three pairs of soft yellow eyes blinking back at him.

“Master Tobias, walk with me please.”

Blinky steered Toby away towards a separate passage. They walked along in silence till they reached a bend in the glowing crystal, where Blinky spoke.

“Tobias, I understand that this is a trying time for you — more so than for most, and just understand that I,” Blinky’s voice caught for a moment. “I appreciate all that you are doing, and I’m sure that Claire would be doing the same were she here, but,” the older troll trailed off. Toby looked up at his friend’s face, and saw that Blinky was blinking all six of his eyes furiously, trying to stave off tears. Toby was shocked; Blinky was always the picture of a strong and well-organized teacher, the guy with the plan. He never cried, and yet... With a sigh, Blinky continued.

“But I believe you may be working too hard. Now, I may not have studied humans as intensively in the past, but since Master Jim became the Trollhunter I have researched human physiology and psychology, in the case that any of you were grievously injured and a physician with knowledge of your inner workings was required. Although I still have much left to learn, I am certain that what you are doing is not healthy,” the concerned look on the blue-green troll’s face pained Toby. Unable to look at the pity in his teacher’s eyes one second longer, Toby shrugged Blinky’s hand off his shoulder, and continued down the corridor, nearly running. He soon left Blinky behind, but Toby didn’t notice, focusing with laser-like intensity on the path before him. Maybe if he walked fast enough, everything would fall behind. Maybe he could walk right out of this nightmare…

“I-I’m fine, really, we just need to focus on getting Jim back, and protecting Trollmarket,” Toby said, but the reply sounded less like an answer, and more like something memorized, even to him. He reached a gap in the corridor, gasping and blinking madly, and glanced down. The opening in the wall revealed an expansive cave filled with Troll soldiers. Toby watched the group run through complex battle formations. He saw a small Troll in the very back stumble. Understandable, as the sword the little guy was carrying was easily as long as he was tall. As Toby watched, the Krubera officer overseeing the cadets marched over and dragged the short guy out. He shouted at the pudgy Troll, and eventually made him face off against another Troll, three times as big, and incredibly muscular. In a matter of seconds, the runt was pummeled into the ground, and made to resume his position in the back of the room. Toby swore he saw tears leaking out of the corners of the small Troll’s eyes.

 _But only the strong can make it,_ Toby thought to himself. _No matter how much it hurts, no matter how bad we want to curl up and cry and scream and never come out to face the horrors, we can’t if we want to survive, and if we want the people we love to survive._

Mesmerized by the soldiers-in-training, Toby didn’t notice Blinky sneaking up behind him until. He grabbed the boy with all six of his arms and spun him around.

“Tobias! I know for a fact that you have not been eating nor sleeping an acceptable amount. The entirety of Trollkind thanks you for your tireless service, but you will reach your limit! And I am afraid that breaking said limit will decimate you. You have just lost your best friend to an unknown fate, and despite what you say, I do not believe that you are ‘fine’! I…” Blinky trailed off noticing the young boy’s silence.

“Tobias? T-toby?” Blinky reached a hand out and softly tilted the human’s chin up. Unresponsive, Toby did not answer. He just stared, wide eyed and tears freely flowing down his face. He made an odd hiccuping noise, and suddenly surged forward to hug Blinky. The troll and human embraced, both crying, relieving the stress and fear of the past two weeks. With a final choked “it will be alright,” the two parted. Toby glanced back at Blinky and the training soldiers, then walked off in the direction of the central market, rubbing at his tear-stained face. Blinky watched him go with a pained expression. With a deep sigh, Blinky turned around and started making his way towards the library. As he had said, Blinky still had much to learn about humans and their, sometimes puzzling, behavior. But he was certain that, in his short years, Toby had matured in ways no child should never have to, and by Gorgus, Blinky was going to make Gunmar and his minions pay for everything they had done to his family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry Toby, you’ll get Jim back ~~maybe, eventually~~!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but it’s probably the darkest ~~and angstiest~~ thing I’ve ever written.  
>  Also, this is kinda REALLY dark? So read at your own risk?

One month.

It had been one month now, and Claire was not handling this well. She admired Toby for being so calm throughout the whole situation, attending the war councils, assisting in creating the protection charms for Trollmarket, and training even harder. Toby and Jim were best friends, they had known each other for _years_ , and Toby could keep it together and actually be _useful_. He was so strong, and Claire… well, she wasn’t. She wished she could be that composed, but the truth was, ever since Jim was captured, Claire felt broken.

Because they couldn’t tell her parents about the Trollhunting, Claire was forced to return home, night after night. And night after night, she had to keep up the act that everything was fine, that everything was working out, and her life was still that perfect, sparkling, _shimmering_ world that she had worked so hard to achieve. She tried so _hard_ to keep the facade running smoothly. But despite being the best actress at Arcadia Oaks High, she couldn’t. Every day, she went to school with a smile on her face, and every day she came home with the same equally painfully happy look on her face. Each day Claire felt something break even more, and she knew that if something didn’t change, if she didn’t stop this cycle, she would eventually break something crucial to her survival, something that couldn’t be repaired. And then her life would be over. Perhaps she herself would shatter into a million small pieces. Claire just hoped that her ‘organized daughter’ mask would hold till they got Jim back. That, however, was looking less likely with each day.

Claire’s fear and pain was leaving a physical mark, and it was scarring her deeply in ways even she didn’t know.

Dark circles deepened under her eyes as sleepless nights overtook her— scared to close her eyes, terrified of the nightmares that came with sleep. Nightmares of Jim, alone, in pain, hurting and screaming while she was standing right next to him, she could almost reach out, but she couldn’t, there was something holding her back, and so she could only scream and cry with him, but he couldn’t hear her, no matter how loud she cried out, no matter how loud she screamed that they were coming, just hold on Jim, hold on

!… And then there was the horrible thought. The horrible, soul-crushing, mind-numbing thought that Jim could already be _gone_. Bular could have killed him the second Jim was brought before him, Jim could have been dead more than a month now, and they would never have known. Claire tried not to dwell on this; she knew that if she even considered that a real possibility, the fragile something within her would break for sure, and she would never be able to get Jim back that way. Instead, she chose to listen to the explanation Blinky provided. If Bular wanted to kill Jim, he would have had Nomura finish the fight in the forest.

Nonetheless, the lack of sleep was getting to Claire, and she was starting to slip up here and there. It was mostly small things; she’d fall asleep in class, or forget to turn in her homework, or not do her daily chores. Claire was falling into a self-deprecating cycle, sinking lower and lower into the quagmire. And while her nights were plagued by nightmares, Claire’s waking world was akin to hell. After the first two weeks, Claire began experiencing severe panic attacks. Parades of horrors, dysfunctional circuses of shadows, scenarios where Trollmarket was razed to the

ground and Jim’s broken body lay on its remains played out over and over in her head. They were so vivid, and so poisonously _real_ that Claire couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was choking, dying, and all she could do was hold on to the one thing that grounded her in this upside down world. The one thing that she knew would always be right-side up. But when she opened her eyes, Claire was never holding onto Jim. It was always her shadow staff.

Darci and Mary soon noticed that something was wrong with their friend, but they ignored it, thinking if Claire wanted to talk about it, she would approach them. They continued to act like they hadn’t noticed anything off, until they walked in on Claire having a full-blown panic attack in the girls’ bathroom at school. They sat down with her, and helped her wade back through the ghosts and the tears. But when Claire was coherent enough to explain what was wrong, she didn’t. She couldn’t. Although the two were sitting there, looking at her expectantly, Claire knew that neither of her friends would believe her. Darci was far too down to earth to ever believe her, and although Mary might take her seriously, she was a liability. Mary would just

blather on until someone who shouldn’t know about Trolls _did_ know. So she shrugged her two best friends off, and lied, telling them she was stressed out about exams. Claire could tell that neither of them was convinced, but to her relief they didn’t press farther. After that first time, however, either Darci or Mary was somehow always around to help Claire through an attack, and Claire was eternally grateful to have found two friends like them.

But still, the pain festered. The things she saw became more real, more like visions. Claire saw entire timelines unfold before her, starting from the day after next, and running into the future, sometimes just a week later, sometimes all the way to two years. All the apparitions ended at the same place, though; Arcadia burning, and Gunmar victorious. She didn’t tell anyone about her possible foresight, but Claire tried to dissuade Trolls and people from making decisions that caused Gunmar’s invasion to arrive sooner. So far it seemed to be working. Then there were other stories; these were more hazy, unclear and disjointed, but in each one, a figure stood, wreathed in white flames and a golden glow. Glinting emerald eyes stared into Claire’s, freezing her into place. A single, slender hand, clothed in green cloth extended towards her, and beckoned her forward. The longer Claire looked into the specter’s eyes, the more she felt she knew who the mysterious figure was, and that scared her beyond belief. So Claire blocked the shadowy visions out, and attempted to focus on the most likely timelines, doing her best to prevent the Gumm-Gumm’s victory.

Unfortunately, Blinky somehow found out about Claire’s current state of health. The result being Blinky suddenly turning into an overprotective Troll-dad. He didn’t want Claire to strain herself and jeopardize herself even more, so he forbade her from helping with any of the preparations. Of course, Claire completely disregarded him; for a while. But apparently she looked even worse than she felt, and whenever Claire went down to Trollmarket, she was just shunted to the side, like an old rag that no one had use for anymore. Pitying looks surrounded her, and she couldn’t bear the thought that complete strangers were doing more to get Jim back. So Claire tried; she tried to help with the training of the new soldiers, and preparing the magical barriers around Market. But she was scared of having a panic attack, right there in the middle of everyone. An ‘incident’ could reveal everything to the denizens of Trollmarket, the

ones who didn’t know. Her _weakness_ could freak out the already underprepared and skittish troops. She could accidentally destroy something with her shadow staff, or hurt someone, or maybe… All the things that could go wrong played out in detail in Claire’s head, the multiple scenarios spinning off in dozens of threads, and all ending back at the same exact nightmare. So Claire took Blinky’s advice and remained in Arcadia, only rarely going down to Trollmarket, and even then staying far away from anyone else; she often secluded herself in Blinky’s library, and tried to find something that could help with the impending fight. And if she was entirely truthful, Claire also researched any possible reasons for her new divinatory capabilities.

Meanwhile, Toby, in response to Claire’s inability to help, increased his participation tenfold, and reported all the goings-on to her daily. Claire knew he was trying to make her feel better, but it just reminded her of all the things she could be helping with and _wasn’t_. Although she considered telling him about her visions, Toby would more than likely want to tell someone else, like Vendel or Blinky. Eventually, Claire started avoiding Toby as well.

Shadows and ghosts had taken over Claire’s life, and she was finding it difficult to discern reality from fantasy.

It had been nearly a month now, and Claire was slowly crumbling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Claire, my bby. Why do I do this to you ~~and make plans to keep doing it for a while~~?
> 
> So I headcanon that the shadow staff screwed with Claire a lot before the whole Morgana incident really blew up, but bc this fic is already angsty, it’s really gonna mess Claire up. SO grab your hats, and hold onto your butts, ‘cause this was just the tip of the iceberg!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaarrrgghh talks with Blinky about holograms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha woo. I’m back! And this time I worked a couple chapters ahead so I’m **ACTUALLY** sticking to a schedule— I swear. Uploads every Tuesday, until I run out of plot (but that will be in abt 40 chapters bc I have so much planned). So, please don’t judge me on the awful characterization, everyone is kind of funky rn.

“Aaarrrgghh! I require your assistance!” A faint shout from the direction of the central marketplace reached Aaarrrgghh’s ears. He had been in the middle of a sparring session with Draal in the Forge. Although he remained a pacifist at heart, the giant Troll put his vow of peace ‘on hold’, and was preparing for any attacks by the Dark Ones, same as the other soldiers. Aaarrrgghh knew better than most the sheer power of the Gumm-Gumm armies; his past as a general in Gunmar’s army was not something he was proud of, but he had long since come to terms with it, and had pledged his life to upholding peace wherever he went. His long journey of reformation had finally landed him in the heart of Trollmarket, best friends with Blinkous Galadrigal, a respected librarian, and on speaking terms with Vendel. Vendel, the leader of Trollmarket, and one of the most widely revered figures in all of Trollkind. Aaarrrgghh often had trouble believing that his life thus far had ended up here, and sometimes when he woke up he expected to be back in the Gumm-Gumm barracks, afraid for his life, for his soldiers’ lives, and with the constant guilt lying heavy on his mind, and his heart. Aaarrrgghh shook his head. He had to remain on topic; if he went back into his memories, who knows how long it would take before he could resurface. And his friends needed him. Speaking of which, he perked his ears up. Aaarrrgghh distinctly heard Blinky’s voice calling him, but the exact location of the noise eluded the large Krubera Troll, and he stopped in his tracks, trying to pinpoint the position of the source. Unfortunately, Aaarrrgghh didn’t give any hint at the fact that he was going to stop suddenly, and a loud “UMPH!” echoed around the Forge. Aaarrrgghh wiggled his ears in annoyance. How was he supposed to hear where Blinky was if things kept distracting him? He turned around, and saw a large, spiky blue ball embedded in his back. Aaarrrgghh reached a stone arm over and peeled Draal off, wincing as he pulled some of his green fur. Meanwhile, the blue troll looked distinctly disgruntled at having spent some time exploring his behemoth friend’s rather expansive backside. Draal shook himself, and glared up at Aaarrrgghh’s sheepish expression.  
“Next time, warn me when you are going to stop! And also, maybe it’s time to ask one of the humans whether they can, how did they put it? ‘Cut and style your ‘do’? It seems to be getting out of hand.”  
“Sorry,” Aaarrrgghh grunted slowly. He allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps he would ask Toby to cut his mane of fur; his wingman had asked Aaarrrgghh before, whether or not he could brush his fur. Perhaps it would be calming for Toby. Something ordinary, to take their minds off of the abnormal life they were living.  
But back on the topic at hand. Blinky. Aaarrrgghh hurriedly muttered an apology to Draal, who in turn just nodded and agreed to continue their session later. The Krubera Troll then hurried off to find his friend.  
Aaarrrgghh lumbered along the lanes of colorful stalls. Trollmarket was always bright, vibrant with patterns and colors and a variety of bric-a-brac. Honestly, it was rather difficult to navigate the tight streets for Aaarrrgghh. There were alleys where the stalls were simply too close to each other, and Aaarrrgghh could just barely squeeze through, and the multitudes of hanging wares and tattered cloth often got stuck on his horns. Untangling himself from such a predicament could take hours (and often did, when he didn’t watch his step). Aaarrrgghh couldn’t afford to waste time (and he didn’t have anyone with him to help him extricate himself from any possible obstacles).  
Edging carefully under a bunch of empty glass bottles and tangled ribbons, Aaarrrgghh kept his ears pointed up and out, listening intently for any hint from Blinky. Not hearing his blue friend again, Aaarrrgghh began trudging along the well-worn route to the library, which seemed to be most likely location of Blinky. The reclusive librarian already spent nearly all of his time in the ancient stone structure, but with… recent events… he barely emerged from the cave. Aaarrrgghh, on the other hand, avoided the room like the plague. The giant troll could hardly bear to be around Blinky nowadays, anyway, as the multi-limbed troll was constantly in a state of near panic, searching for any way to bring Jim back home.  
Reaching the library, Aaarrrgghh peered in the doorway. Scuffling footsteps and thumping noises echoed out of the large rooms. He ducked through the entrance and began picking his way through the piles of books, trying to get to the source of the noise. Of course, it might not be Blinky (although, who except his six-eyed friend was ever in the library?), but Aaarrrgghh would cross that hurdle when he got to it. As the giant troll walked deeper in, he started hearing muttering somewhere farther on. Suddenly, the someone-in-the-library gave a shout.  
“Aha! I found it! AAARRRGGHH!! Where are you my friend?!”  
Someone rushed out of the labyrinth of books, and ran straight into Aaarrrgghh. Startled, the green troll jumped back, while the other person fell on their back. Rubbing his head, Blinky sat up on the ground. Blinking all six eyes, he focused on Aaarrrgghh.  
“Ah! There you are, my compatriot! Come, I have found it!”  
Not waiting for an answer, Blinky turned around and hurried straight back where he came from.  
“It? What it?” Aaarrrgghh lumbered after his friend. Ah, Blinky’s enthusiasm was always fun to be around, but in the past month, that excitement could easily be a sign of sleep deprivation. Aaarrrgghh was just as scared, and worried, as everyone in Trollmarket, maybe even more so because he knew Jim personally. But Blinky was taking things too far— they couldn’t save Jim if they weren’t in top form, and that meant Aaarrrgghh was going to get Blinky to sleep at least a few hours today, even if the smaller troll protested.  
“A book, my friend, a book, that may help us get Master Jim _back_!” Blinky popped up from behind a desk, clutching an old and dusty tome. He clambered out into the relatively clear center of the library, grabbing a stool with one of his arms. He set the book down on the seat, flipping rapidly through the thick pages.  
“Where was it, where was it, where— Ah! Here we go!” The blue troll spun the book around on the stool, pointing it at Aaarrrgghh. The Krubera leaned in, examining the spindly figures scratched in the vellum. Unable to discern the great meaning behind the writing, Aaarrrgghh looked at his friend for help.  
“This enchantment, right here. It allows the caster to apparently change form, cast a, a sort of illusion over themselves! We could use this to disguise our true forms and sneak into the Gumm-Gumm compound to retrieve Jim!” Blinky stepped back, throwing out his arms. “Well, what do you think?”  
Aaarrrgghh stood for a moment, looking between the book and Blinky. Oh, it would be wonderful to say, Yes, that’s a great idea, really foolproof! We can get Jim back! But there were flaws with this plan, so, so many flaws. Aaarrrgghh looked at sadly Blinky. His blue friend was so smart, and normally would have seen the holes in his plan so easily, so clearly, but the pressure and awful fear that they might be too late was dragging him down. Making him desperate. Using illusions as a way to sneak in would never work. What if they touched something, or someone? It would be immediately obvious that the Gumm-Gumm soldier they were portraying was fake. And even if they somehow managed to avoid touching anything, the Gumm-Gumm armies were too coordinated, too disciplined. Anyone without recent knowledge of its inner workings would stick out like a sore thumb and be caught immediately.  
“Blinky… won’t work. Many problems.”   
“But, if we…” for a moment, it seemed as though Blinky might try to argue, but then he deflated, arms dropping and head bowing. “No, no you are right, Aaarrrgghh. You are absolutely **right**!” In a sudden fit of anger, Blinky kicked out at the nearest stack of books, knocking it over. He stood there, panting, with his hands balled into fists, visibly shaking. With anger, or fear, or just shear exhaustion, Aaarrrgghh couldn’t tell.  
“Blinky,” Aaarrrgghh picked up two of the books, smoothing their creased pages. “It okay.”  
“No, Aaarrrgghh, it is not okay! Merlin knows, nothing has been okay since,” the librarian swallowed hard. “Since Master Jim…” Suddenly, Blinky dropped down onto the stool, sobbing. Aaarrrgghh lumbered over to his friend, drooping one giant arm over the smaller troll’s shoulder. The two stayed in silence, one shaking with quiet tears, and the other crying inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof Blinky. I see Aaarrrgghh as being more put together than the rest of the crew (both inwardly and out), mostly bc he’s been through this before, and he was right there in the thick of it. BUT bc of that he also has a lot of self-esteem/personal-worth issues, but since he came to Trollmarket he’s been working through them with Blinky’s help (and now Toby’s). And soft green boi is now a lot better (and it’s finally his turn to comfort/help Blinky).
> 
> Next time: Jim’s POV


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim’s month so far has not been great.
> 
> Oof, sorry about that, Chapter 5 AND 4 are now fixed. Turns out I had all the forward slashes as back slashes instead, and it was messing up all the italics and bolding in the chapters. My bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim is dying. What’s new?

Cold. That was the world, cold and dark, reaching no farther than the confines of the small room. Sometimes the door in the corner would open, and the world would expand to another room, another… place, but that was… it was best not to think about it. The small, cold, and dark room was infinitely preferable to the other place.  
Jim’s world was shrouded in pain. Pain and fear. He could practically smell it, oozing from the ground, the walls, the stale air, but mostly from himself. It was overpowering, a stench that made up his existence. That, and the things waiting for him in the other room…  
Jim shook his head roughly. Now was no time to black out, he needed to stay awake so that… wait. Why did he need to stay awake? It’s not like his friends were coming for him. Jim raised his head slowly, and tried to make out how many lines were scraped into the filth. Although his eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, Jim’s vision was hazy… was it from the sleep deprivation, the starvation, or the blood loss? Frankly, Jim couldn’t tell, and he didn’t really care either.  
Hacking coughs forced their way out of his throat, his wheezing echoing in the cell. Something warm and red flecked the ground in front of him, melding in with the small puddles in the same color. Outside of his world, a quiet shuffling sounded. Jim didn’t look up. Why should he? It’s not like he could actually do anything. Broken bones and torn skin and cold and dark and fear. In the beginning, he would react to every sound, on edge at every moment.  
Jim shifted, whimpering softly when the manacles around his arms chafed at the raw skin. The tiny cuts all over him stung, and the tattered remains of his clothes did nothing to hide the burns covering his chest. Bruises littered his body, blooming dark blue and green, clustered on his shattered legs like garish flowers. Jim felt his broken ribs shift each time he coughed, threatening to puncture something vital; maybe then he could actually die. “The sweet release of death”, right? Release from this _hell_ , even for a few minutes, please please **please** , anyone.  
Please.

_“Wakey wakey, Fleshling,” Nomura entered the cell, her twin scimitars glinting behind her back. Jim’s eyes met hers, glinting with dark joy, her fangs bared in a sadistic grin. The Trollhunter shivered. He forced himself to his feet, despite his broken leg, and glared at the purplish-pink she-Troll as she approached._  
_Nomura walked closer, forcing Jim to back up into the wall. She finally stopped, her glistening canines barely a few inches from his face._  
_“Judging by that limp, looks like you’ve already started my job for me. Thanks for that, little human,” she sneered._  
_Nomura suddenly shot her arm out, seizing Jim’s forearm in a bruising grip. Shocked, he cried out as she dragged him away from the wall. Nomura pulled him as far as the chains would allow Jim to move, roughly one meter away, and let go of his arm. The lack of support nearly made him fall over, since his injured leg wouldn’t hold his weight properly. He stumbled, but caught himself, straightening up to resume his glaring._  
_“What do you want, Nomura?” Jim said. Or tried to say. All he managed was, “What do you-”, before a swift punch to his stomach had him doubled over on his knees._  
_“You will speak when spoken to, human,” the Changeling hissed. She stood for a moment, contemplating the gasping boy in front of her. “I think you’ll learn that rule soon enough. Honestly, I don’t understand how you Fleshbags have managed to survive this long,” she knelt down in front of Jim, and forced his head up. “You’re all such weak creatures. No armour, no teeth, no claws. By the Dark Ones, you don’t even have that much hair!” She straightened up, watching Jim disdainfully. He had finally gotten his air back, but still had not managed to stand up. “Ah well, makes my job here easier.”_  
_Nomura dragged Jim to his feet, eliciting a small yelp from the boy. She whirled around, throwing him back at the wall. He landed with an horrible crack and fell to his knees again, trying to get air in his lungs. His injured leg was lying at an even more crooked angle; obviously the stone wall had been too much for the already overtaxed limb. Gasping, Jim staggered upright, clinging to the stone wall. He almost fell over twice, and Nomura watched him with a satisfied smirk._  
_“Weak,” she scoffed. She turned around, apparently ready to leave the cell, but then thought better of it and stormed back to Jim. His eyes went wide and he scrambled to get into a defensive stance, but the Changeling merely crouched down in front of him. She stared at his eyes, wide and fearful, for a few moments, before chuckling softly and looking down._  
_“You better grow a pair soon, whelp, or else this is going to be a lot more fun for me, and a lot less fun for you. Regardless what you might think, we aren’t all bad. We’re just trying to bring justice to those that claim to embody it while they scorn those weaker than them,” Nomura straightened up, staring down at the shuddering boy._  
_“Till tomorrow then, Trollhunter.”_

_In Jim’s opinion, tomorrow could have waited a bit longer._  
_It didn’t seem all that long after Nomura first came in his cell and tossed him around (Ow, hell, his leg hurt so. **much**.), that her purplish-pink frame was sliding through the door again. _  
_Jim was sliding in and out of consciousness, and in his half-awake state forgot the rule Nomura had set down._  
_“Tomorrow already?”_  
_A hard kick to the abdomen later Jim was retching on the ground. Nomura grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him up._  
_“What did I say **boy** , about speaking out of turn?” Her lips pulled back in a snarl, fangs shining dangerously. _  
_“I hope you haven’t you forgotten already? Or do you need a reminder?” A cruel glint entered her eyes, and she let go of Jim’s hair. A moment later, she stomped down on his uninjured leg, splintering the bone. Jim screamed, and tried to crawl away, but the assassin had his arm in her killer grip and she was squeezing tighter and tighter._  
_“Now then, do you remember now?” When Jim didn’t answer, she shook him violently. “Answer me boy!”_  
_“Th-that I’m not s’posed to talk, unless…” Jim trailed off, coughing. Nomura shook him again, and he continued, “Unless, someone talks t’me f-first.”_  
_Satisfied with the answer, Nomura let go of Jim’s arm, and stalked over to the wall his chains were attached to. She leaned over the bolts connecting the shackles to the wall. Nomura fumbling with something around her waist. Jim made out a thin belt, with a variety of hooks and keys hanging on it._  
_Grumbling, she yanked the loop she was looking for off, and inserted a long, thin key into Jim’s restraints. With a loud clanking, the long end of the chains fell to the floor. She repeated the process for the other three, then grabbed the two tethers leading to Jim’s arms. She grinned at the Trollhunter, horribly pleased about something, and spun around, dragging the boy with her._  
_Jim tried to get his footing, but his broken legs and the purposeful speed Nomura was pulling him along at prevented him from even sitting up. Every few moments, the Changeling would glance back at him, a sinister grin flashing over her shoulder._  
_Finally, she reached her destination; a tall and foreboding metal door. Grasping the keys, she unlocked the door and stalked inside, bringing Jim with her. Nomura dropped the boy’s arm, letting him lay on the floor, gasping with pain. She slammed the door shut, turning the lock with a heavy ‘clunk’._  
_“Now then, Trollhunter,” Nomura turned around to face the pale boy. “Let us test your mettle.”_

_She came back again the next day. And the next. And the next. Jim couldn’t tell whether he was conscious or not anymore; it was all just a reddish haze, his world awash in pain._  
_He had fallen into an endless cycle, each day, some new form of torture. Some new way to cause him agony, all as those searing green eyes stared into him. Sometimes the goblins would watch too, eyes like search-beams glaring at him. Their laughter grated on Jim’s ears. At least Nomura didn’t laugh._  
_But she talked._  
_Every time he was in_ that _room, she would talk, talk about the glory of the Gumm-Gumm cause, the power that would soon be theirs, the magnificent future they promised. She never specified what exactly that “magnificent future” was, or what it entailed for those not a part of Gunmar’s legions. But she spoke with such conviction, such admiration. Sometimes, Jim heard a small voice, somewhere inside himself, that whispered a lot of the same things, **agreed** with the purple Troll. All he could do was shake his head and try to chase it out, but inevitably, when the pain got too bad for him to distinguish the borders between waking and sleep, it would come back, and continue whispering. Even the promise, that his friends were looking for him, they would come soon, you’ll see, did nothing to quiet the niggling little thing. It came back, every day, just like Nomura, just like the room. Just like the pain. __When he was alone in his cell, waiting for someone to come and take him back, Jim would try and remember what it felt like not to be afraid. Not to be hurting. Not to be alone._  
_As the days passed, it got harder to remember._  
_As the days passed, the Trollhunter lost hope._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel kind of bad; also, is this good? I might add actual torture scenes in a later chapter, but this was kind of just what’s been going on with blue boy the last month.
> 
> Next time: The Plot actually starts!! (Wow, i have plot? I astonished myself too). Toby and the others get called to the Marshlands.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gumm-Gumms and Quagawumps, oh my. Alternatively; woo at last some plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, the first time I've stuck to an update schedule for more than one day! Look at that! (Just as a heads-up, bc it was weird last week and I updated twice, I'll be posting a new chapter every Tuesday, unless otherwise stated)
> 
> So, have some Trollhunters Gang being grumpy! :D

“Aaarrrgghh! Blinky!”  
Toby dashed through the stalls of Trollmarket, shoving Trolls out of the way and ducking under tarps.  
“Tobias! Over here!”  
Spotting the two trolls, Toby jogged over to them, panting.“Hey, guys. Just, just give me a moment,” bent over with his hands on his knees, Toby tried to catch his breath. Sure, he was a lot more fit since the start of Trollhunter training (which was still **so** badass to say!), but running all over Trollmarket looking for his wingman and a librarian was NOT easy.  
“So, hah, we just got word from the, huff, Quagawumps. Apparently, a bunch of Gumm-Gumms were spotted on their borders, and-”  
“How much is “a bunch”, Tobias?”  
“Like, enough for an army, “a bunch”. And so they’re worried about an attack, and they’ve requested the assistance of Trollmarket. Vendel and the council ordered the army to go to the marshlands, but they want all three of us to go too, since we know what it’s like.”  
“Very well, let me grab a few things. We must depart quickly, the Quagawumps may be right in fearing an attack. Although this is greatly troubling,” Blinky looked at Aaarrrgghh worriedly, “Why would the Gumm-Gumms attack the Marshdwellers? They are peaceful, and have no valuable resources on their lands. Well, valuable to none but them, I suppose…”  
“Blinky, analyze later, let’s go? Now? The orders were sent out, almost an hour ago already!”“Well, why didn’t you start with that? And really Tobias, why didn’t you notify us sooner? Time _is_ of the essence here.” The blue Troll began hurriedly waddling away in the direction of the Gyre, Aaarrrgghh lumbering after him.  
Toby grumbled to himself as he followed the other two.  
“I would have loved to, but some Trolls apparently can’t stay put.”  
As they approached the Gyre cave, a navy-blue and purple figure darted out.  
“Where have you guys been? Seriously, Vendel’s getting really mad, the troops should reach the caves any second, they were going on foot. If you’re not there when they reach the Quagawumps, him and Usurna will probably behead you.”  
“Nice to see you too, Claire.”  
Upon entering the Gyre cave, the four Trollhunters saw, indeed, a very obviously angry Vendel and Usurna waiting next to the Gyre.  
“Vendel, I understand why you keep the Trollhunter around, but why do you bother with these other humans. It seems they can’t even hurry up and retrieve two Trolls when the _fate_ of an entire _species_ is at stake.”  
“WellI’m sorry, your Ladyship, but Trollmarket is pretty big and I had to look everywhere to find Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, so you can just-!”  
Claire put her hand on Toby’s shoulder and pulled him back. He glared at her over his shoulder, but she just shook her head.  
“Hmph. Well, what are you waiting for? The army won’t be able to navigate the marshlands without you.”  
Still scowling at Usurna, Toby followed Blinky into the Gyre, sitting down on the far back bench. A few moments later, Claire sat down next to him.  
“Toby, what’s wrong? Why do you always act so weird around Usurna?”  
“It’s just, that... all this stuff… maybe it’s getting to me. I’m scared. But Usurna, whenever I look at her, I feel weird, you know? Like there’s some big crawly thing crawling down my back, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s bad news. No one else is getting that though, so it’s probably just, nerves, or something, right? I mean, we have every right to be nervous, with the Gumm-Gumms and Killahead and,” Toby trailed off, then swallowed and continued. “And Jim, but I don’t know Claire? It seems like there’s something more to all of this?”  
“What do you mean? We know that the Gumm-Gumms are just trying to open the bridge so that they can free Gunmar, what else is there?”  
“I don’t know, but I have a _feeling_ , okay? Maybe-”  
But whatever “maybe” was, Claire never found out because the Gyre suddenly started, whirling off into the depths of the Troll tunnels. Toby hunched down in his seat, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down as the vehicle hurtled around corners at speeds that would put a jet to shame. A few moments later, the Gyre arrived in the marshland dock.  
Hey, Toby was able to get through that without- wait, scratch that. He ran behind a bush and vomited up his tacos. When the world stopped spinning, he staggered back to the others. Claire was hiding a smirk and Aaarrrgghh rumbled, punching Toby’s shoulder lightly.  
“Come on, let’s get going. The Quagawump village is a bit far from here.”  
“Geez Claire, I was here last time too. I was the king! I know my way around.”  
The four ran down the rough path. Eventually, they saw a large mass of Trolls up ahead; the Trollmarket army. It was huge, at least in regard to Troll armies. Nearly 5,000 strong, each of them armoured and carrying various weapons, it was an intimidating sight. Unfortunately, the only other Troll army larger was the one they were up against. When compared to the Gumm-Gumm hordes of old, the Trollmarket army looked like kids playing with water balloons. Since those days, however, hundreds of thousands of Gumm-Gumms had died, or deserted, shrinking their forces significantly. But the use of Changelings and the Decimaar Blade increased those numbers once more.  
Despite constant research, not even Blinky was able to find anything recent on those numbers, however. When it came down to it, Trollmarket was fighting blind, with minimal knowledge about the enemy; an enemy they **had** to defeat, for the sake of not one, but two worlds. War had been declared with the capture of the Trollhunter, a war that could decimate millions.  
And today they might have their first actual battle.  
Toby and the others jogged to the front of the pack. He approached Vormir, one of the generals leading this expedition.  
“Ah, Tobias. You arrived. We were beginning to think maybe you wouldn’t,” the tall troll raised an eyebrow.  
“Sorry, we were hurrying.”  
Vormir’s eyebrows rose even further, then he sighed and closed his eyes.  
“Well, you’re here now and we haven’t even seen any Gumm-Gumms yet, so no harm done. But Tobias, please try to be on time in the future, especially for military issues.”  
Toby nodded (thank Merlin Vormir was a nice guy, unlike some of the other Trolls he knew).  
“Hey! Listen up!”  
Claire’s shouting drew his attention. She was standing on a boulder (wow, there are actual boulders in the marshlands?) and yelling at the crowd, who was ignoring her ardently. Vormir jumped up beside her and hollered, “PAY ATTENTION, YOU LAZY ASSES!” It’s really amazing how quickly hundreds of Trolls can get in order.  
“Ok, so,” clearing her throat, Claire started. “As you all are aware, there were Gumm-Gumm sightings in this area. We were asked to provide military protection for the Quagawumps, in case of an attack. That means everyone needs to remain alert at all times. Navigating the swamps can be difficult, so don’t go off the path unless you have to. The ground can turn from solid to liquid over a few steps, so be **very** careful. Toby and I will lead you to the Quagawump village, where we will be stationed till a new threat arises, or the defenses for the marshlands are completed.”  
Finished with her speech, Claire cleared her throat awkwardly, and jumped off the boulder.  
“Wow, formal much? Did you practice that, Claire?”  
“Shut up, Toby.”  
“Ah, but that was a very strong speech Claire, a nice use of military vocabulary!”  
“Thanks Blinky.”  
“Claire, Tobias, if you would,” Vormir gestured for them to lead, and the two humans started marching through the swampy forest, circling around trees and avoiding wet patches.   
As they walked, Toby glanced over at Claire. Yeah, she had accused him of acting weird around Usurna, but she was acting weird around _everyone_. She was jumpy, and having mood swings like crazy; one moment, she’d be laughing, the next she might tear your throat out, and then the next she would be sobbing on the ground. Toby could understand the crying part, but the rest of it is was just plain weird. And other than that, Claire was giving him that off feeling too. Not as strongly as the Queen of the Krubera, but it was strengthening. Hopefully it really was just his nerves. If he couldn’t trust Claire, who could he?  
Actually, now that Toby was looking at Claire, she looked awful too. Like, really exceptionally bad. Pale, with dark bags under her eyes. She walked with a weird sort of trot, like she was trying to look prepared but really really wasn’t. And her expression, even though it wasn’t happy (or even trying to be) was oddly closed off, like Claire wasn’t all there.  
Or like something else was.   
“That’s crazy,” Toby waved away the little voice, ignoring it’s whispering.  
“Huh? Did you say something Tobes?”  
“No, sorry Claire, keep going.”  
But how crazy was it really? After all, they lived in a world with Trolls and magic.  
Claire and Usurna, and maybe others, might really not be themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha I feel kind of bad.
> 
> ~~this isn't even everything~~
> 
> Next Chapter: Barbara Lake.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara Lake's son is missing, and she isn't taking it well.
> 
> (brief pause from the plot to see Barbara's pov, kind of a shorter chapter?? Don't worry, we'll be back to the actual plot next chap (which might actually go up sooner than next Thursday bc I'm really excited about it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I tried on this chapter. But I have never written from a mother's pov and it might be... a bit too much?? I welcome criticism, so please comment on how I could improve this, bc I know it's kind of weird.

Jim. He was gone. He was missing, Jim her _son_ was gone, and Barbara had no idea where. Yes, Toby and Claire had told her about Trolls and Changelings and monsters and amulets choosing little boys that should be _in school and not running around in some godforsaken hell, for crying out loud_!  
Dr. Lake was still dazed. It was almost one month now, wasn’t it? One month since those two kids called her at work, asking whether they could talk to her later. Oddly formal, considering that Toby practically lived at their house, and she’d heard a **lot** about Claire.But Barbara hadn’t thought much of it.  
The two came over that night, and she had thought they looked pale then. Nervous, scared even. She immediately assumed that Jim had gotten in some sort of trouble, maybe a fight at school. He was always coming home with scrapes and bruises, but the school never called her about anything, and Jim did go exploring with his friends often, so she just chalked it up to a woodland adventure.  
 _Adventure_.  
The word tasted bitter in her mouth now.  
She had sat the two kids down, and poured them both cups of tea. Toby had picked his up, but his hands were shaking so hard he put it down again immediately. Claire hadn’t even touched hers. She had looked like she’d been crying. They both had.  
Then they told her.  
They told her _everything_.  
And suddenly, it all made so much more sense.  
Why Jim was suddenly keeping secrets. Why he had those bumps. The late-night escapades. The missing Vespa. The weird noises in the basement. Why sometimes books or lamps would go missing. For Pete’s sake, it even explained Walter! When she had walked in on that, that **fort** they built in the living room…! That was apparently to defend against an evil Troll? And Jim hadn’t told her again, even though Barbara knew she must have asked him to. Damn it all, he was trying to protect her this whole time, but she’s his **mother** , that’s **her** job, never her baby boy’s!  
But even after all that, she was still okay. She was safe with the knowledge that **Jim** was safe too. She had gotten up and taken the two kids’ cups, taking them to the kitchen. She stood there, leaning on the counter, processing this information that made Arcadia Oaks suddenly a whole lot more explainable, trying to understand, trying desperately to remember anything she saw.  
When she had come back, Barbara thought she was okay.  
But then.  
Then.  
They gave her the last bit.  
They told her.  
 **They told her**.   
Shock.  
Confused.  
“Impossible”.  
“No way”.  
Why.  
How.  
…  
…  
 **WHY HER LITTLE BOY?**  
Jim was gone. He was missing. Jim, her _**son**_ , was gone, and Barbara had no real idea where.  
The Darklands.  
Gunmar.  
“If Satan were real… If Hell was a place…”  
Those were Toby’s exact words, weren’t they? And apparently, he’d been researching it, reading first-hand accounts of it, with Trolls, Trolls to whom this **was** a real place, this **was** a real person.  
Oh God.  
Why.  
Barbara didn’t go to work. She knew she should. But there was no way. Jim was somewhere alone, hurting, taken by demons and monsters, who were planning unspeakable things, to unleash terrors upon this world, uncountable and unfathomable. Who knows what they could do, will do, **are doing** to her SON. Jim might be …!  
Dr. Lake didn’t go to work for three weeks. She feigned illness, which wasn’t difficult since every time she thought of Jim, which was **every waking moment** , made her want to sob and retch and scream and hide all at once.  
How.  
Why.  
 **Why didn’t he at least tell her**.  
One week after telling her, Toby showed up at her house. He had been coming regularly, trying to help around the house; cleaning some, cooking meals. It made her think of Jim. But everything made her think of Jim.  
But this time, he came with an offer.  
The Trolls (“The good ones,” she reminded herself. “But it’s their fault.”) were preparing for war. And they were going to try and rescue Jim. He was important. He’d saved them before. Many times. It made her give a watery smile; that was just like Jim, trying to save an entire race.  
But they couldn’t go out in sunlight, and the Changelings could. With the help of the Trollhunter, they had a list of most of the Changelings in Arcadia, and its general area, but they needed someone to keep an eye on the Gumm-Gumm spies’ movements.  
For that they need a human.  
Barbara agreed without a second thought.  
If it helps Jim, she’ll do anything.  
 **Anything**.  
For the next two weeks, she dutifully reported every movement to the Council through Toby. She didn’t blame the Trolls for not asking her to come down to Trollmarket. Frankly, Barbara thinks she might have refused to anyway (“Their fault.”). She listened to the radio. There were some well-known Changelings that were easy to track, and most of the Impure were teachers, or something similar. Anything even remotely suspicious that could relate in any way, however small, to them, she reported.  
She told them everything.  
Just like they told her everything.  
And took away  
Her everything.  
Barbara piled up all the pictures of Jim in her room, carried at least two around with her wherever she went. Terrified, terrified that she’ll forget what he looks like. Please, please God, let him come back. Let him come back soon. Let him still be Jim, let me see my son again.  
She kept busy. It dulled the pain.  
Sometimes, on long shifts at the hospital, Barbara wonders what it’s like for the families of critical patients. Whether it hurts as much as she thinks it does. How they can deal with it. Knowing their lives could change completely, forever, in a blink of an eye. Entrusting the fate of their loved one to complete strangers. The families themselves wondering, whether they’ll get to see their loved one again. If they can ever be happy again.  
It hurts more.  
You can’t deal with it.   
There is nothing that is more terrifying.  
She wouldn’t, and doesn’t, trust anyone with Jim.  
No answer.  
If he doesn’t come back…

Please.  
She just wants to see her son again.

Please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yeah, that's how Barbara came into the story! Sorry if she felt weird, but I thought it was important to cover how Dr. L came to be spying on Changelings. Hopefully it wasn't **too** strained??
> 
> Next up: Back to the plot!! Toby meets Wumpa again, and finds out that things are worse than previously thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: HEY BELLA. HEWWO. WHAT IS YOUR USERNAME.)
> 
> Things start getting ~~juicy~~ worse. People cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~checks edit history of doc. Realizes that she hasn't edited in a month. Realizes that she should maybe add to the story.~~
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this one, I swEAR this is one of the last "slow" chaps, things are going to go from 30 to 300mph soon enough (lemme just set up some plot points!! And also **sUspENSe** , so hang on, I promise.

“Toby!”  
Queen Wumpa raced out of the bushy entrance to the central Quagawump compound. She leapt on Toby, hugging him with her short green arms.  
“Wumpa!”  
The two jumped apart, and performed Toby’s signature dance.  
“Boom, boom, shake the room! Say whaaaaaa-!”  
They laughed for a moment, then grew serious.  
“Wumpa sorry for loss of Trollhunter. He was good friend of Toby, yes?” Before Toby could reply, she continued.  
“But no time to frown now. Quagawumps seen Gumm-Gumms, many, in Whisper Marsh. We have no good army, need Trollmarket.”  
“Yeah, that’s what we’re here for Wumpa.”   
When the small Troll pursed her lips, examining the “army” behind Toby, he laughed and finished: “The army’s following us in a long row, a lot ofthem aren’t here yet. Don’t worry, we have more Trolls than that.”  
Lightening immediately, the Queen jumped up.  
“Ah, good to hear! Quagawumps and Trollmarket will scare away Gumm-Gumms!”  
Wumpa looked over Toby’s shoulder at Claire, who was walking up behind them. She watched the girl for a moment, then suddenly gasped, dragging Toby away to a clump of bushes a few feet beyond.  
“Wumpa, what’s wrong?” Toby peeked over the bushes, trying to tell if anything could have spooked the small Troll. Unless she found a couple hundred sentient rocks scratching overlarge noses particularly scary, he didn’t see anything.  
“There’s nothing to be scared of? Well, except maybe the Gumm-Gumms but we’re here now, and— wait. Did you see a Gumm-Gumm?”  
“Mm-mm,” she shook her head.  
“Girl. Claire.”  
Toby looked back out from the bushes. A lot more Trolls were filing into the village, and Vormir was already barking orders to build walls, set up tents, et cetera. Claire was walking around with a faintly confused and angry look on her face; Toby had a sinking feeling that was for him. She **had** been coming over, presumably to talk to Wumpa, when the Quagawump Queen dragged Toby off for some unknown reason.Then it registered what she said.  
"Claire? What about her?" he whirled around.  
"She has aura. Not good, bad things come from her aura. It makes Wumpa worried."  
"So you feel it too? There is **something** weird, it's not just me!"  
"No! Not 'weird'! **BAD**. Toby must be careful. Dark times, when Gunmar reigns, and dark times when Trollhunter gone. All must be careful, don't trust! Toby must promise Wumpa!" She frantically shook the boy, eyes wide and scared.  
"Okay, okay, calm down Wumpa. I promise."  
Shaking, she let go of Toby and sat down. She sighed, and looked back up at him with shining eyes.  
“Thank... you.”  
Wumpa suddenly stood up and ran out from behind the bush. Toby sat there for a moment, stunned. He heard the Quagawump Queen’s voice greet Claire, and the two begin to speak.  
“Wumpa sad.”  
Startled, Toby leapt back into the bush, pricking his arms on the spiny leaves.  
“W-what? Who said that?”  
A tiny Quagawump emerged from behind a boulder, wringing his hands. He stepped up to Toby, muttering something.  
“Wumpa sad.”  
Keeping an eye on the little troll, Toby quickly peeked back at to his friends. They all looked busy, and no one seemed to be missing him. He turned back to the young Quagawump.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Wumpa ... sad. Quagawumps sad. And scared.”  
“Of... the Gumm-Gumms? But, it’s alright. We’re here now, no one’s going to get hurt.”  
The little troll shook his head.  
“Too late.”  
He sniffed suddenly, and a tear trailed down the side of his face.  
“Quagawumps didn’t _see_ Gumm-Gumms. Found body. Prince Wumwa. He had arrow with a note.”  
“A... body?!”  
Nodding and more sniffling.  
“Prince Wumwa. Son of Queen Wumpa. He was adventuring when Gumm-Gumms caught him. Found him week later.”  
“Can I... see the note, please?”  
The small troll nodded again, then turned tail and scampered off. Toby glanced back at the clearing behind him one more time, then followed.  
The small Quagawump raced through the bog, jumping over half-sunken logs and patches of marshy land. Toby stumbled after with slightly less grace, sometimes slipping into the muck. Eventually, the Troll stopped, standing in between two scraggly trees. Panting, Toby caught up to him and leaned on one of the trees.  
"Wow... you sure are... nimble..."  
"Come, Wumpa has note in house."  
Toby straightened up to take in the scene before him.  
A vast underground cavern opened up into the gloom. Sharpened stalactites, points glistening in the dim light, jutted down from the ceiling. They were hung with vines and creeper plants, all a bright, poisonous green colour. Little spots of red and yellow peeked out, signaling the locations of flowers. The vines draped down, some long enough to reach the ground of the cavern, where they melted perfectly into the green earth. The ground was overgrown with strange shaped bushes, tall and gangly trees, stumpy shrubs, elegant ferns, and all manner of greenery. Every shade of green could be seen in that mess of foliage, along with brilliant oranges and sharp blues. Among the intense vegetation, small brown mounds were just barely visible. Plants were casually arranged on them, disguising the forms so effectively that an outsider may not have noticed the houses at all. But houses they were. Perfect for the small green Trolls; unable to defend themselves against larger, more numerous attackers, they shaped their environment to hide them from prying eyes.  
"Whoah," Toby breathed.  
Still following the small Troll, he stumbled down into the dense trees. Picking their way through the forest, the Quagawump led Toby to a slightly larger hut, pressed up against an enormous dark red tree, with spreading green leaves the size of Vespas."Here, Wumpa hut."  
There was no door, just a hole in the side of the building, somewhat covered by a sizable bundle of vines. The two pushed through the hanging greenery, and walked inside.  
Toby was immediately hit with a strong, incredibly sweet smell. It was ridiculously heavy, and smelled something like oranges and vanilla. He choked, not expecting the cloying scent."Smell for mourning. Wumpa very sad because of Wumwa."  
Nodding, Toby tried to breathe through his mouth, ignoring the smell. Wumpa's hut was small and warm, the contents of which were all in varying shades of brown and green. The house was sparsely furnished, with a bed, a table, some chairs, and something resembling a stove. The walls had small hangings on them, which, upon closer inspection, seemed to be made of vines and strips of leaves. It was, in a word, homey.  
The table had a roll of white laying on it, completely out of place in its dim surroundings. Toby looked over at the little Quagawump, who nodded and gestured for him to pick up the paper.  
Toby walked up to the table, and unrolled the note.  
It was written on thick vellum, pale yellow with splotches of dark red ink ( _or something else_ , Toby thought). Thick, heavy lettering in a spiraling font traced across the paper.  
"The Dark Lord will rise. Join him, or the mud-crawlers."  
Toby shuddered.  
He rolled the note back up, and hurried out of the hut."Let's go."  
When they were a while away from the village, Toby thought back to why he had wanted to see the note in the first place. What was he hoping to accomplish? It wasn't like the Gumm-Gumms were about to write their battle plan on a threatening letter? ( _Or_ , his heart whispered, _where they are keeping Jim_.) It was a far-fetched idea either way, and all he had accomplished with this little excursion was getting muddy and tired. And probably making Claire mad.  
Sure enough, when they got back to the clearing with the army, Claire was standing there, tapping her foot angrily. Aaarrrgghh and Blinky stood behind her, talking with Wumpa, but when they saw him approaching all three of them turned to face him. Toby glanced down at his side, but the little Quagawump wasn't there anymore. Well. So much for moral support.  
"Where have you been!? It's been _ages_ , Toby, I hope you were doing something useful. Or did you forget why we are here?"  
From close up, Claire looked even angrier. Her ears were completely red, and her eyes sparked with a hard glint.  
"Um, sorry. I was just... looking around?"  
"Looking around? Looking _**around**_?! **Alone**?! Toby! What were you _thinking_?!" Claire was practically screaming at him, and Trolls were staring at them from around the clearing. Toby felt his own face turn red.  
"Well, _sorry_ Claire, but I had to check something out!"  
"Then you should have told someone you were going to leave!"  
"I don't have to do anything you say! You aren't the boss of me!"  
"Well, I should be! Things would be **so** much easier, and simpler, if I **was** the boss of you, and...!" Claire suddenly trailed off. An odd sheen had covered her eyes.  
“If I could... could have...” she broke off, whipping around and dropping her head.  
“Claire?”  
She shook her head and straightened up. In a slightly huskier voice than usual, she chokes out, “Just don’t do it again,” then stormed off towards the makeshift barracks.  
Toby turned to the Quagawump queen. She stared back at him sadly, an unspoken question in her eyes.  
"Wumpa... I'm so sorry.”  
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, before she tried at a watery smile.  
“He will be remembered.”  
She choked on a sob, then darted away after Claire.  
Toby looked up at Aaarrrgghh and Blinky. The librarian was looking worriedly after Claire and Wumpa, and his wingman was watching Toby with concern in his green eyes. Suddenly, Toby’s vision turned blurry, and something wet tracked down his cheek.   
He realized his hands were shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahahaha they're all crying I'm sorry.
> 
> Next Chapter: Some more Jimbo, and some Gumm-Gumms contemplating life and what they are trying to do. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some exposition that I came up with at 3 am. **Angst**. We visit ma boi Jim again, now with Insanity(tm), and introducing STRICKLER (he's so salty, I love writing him)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry for the delay! I was having technical difficulties with my ao3 account, but now that's fixed (hopefully). so yep! a lot of angst in this one, oops.
> 
> Also, anyone out there seen Bungou Stray Dogs, bc I'm yeeting over that anime (and hush, Bella, idc if you see this).

Nightmares. Jim didn’t know whether his dreams or his waking state was worse - come to think of it, did he ever sleep? Or, or maybe he was never awake. Maybe all of this was a sick, prolonged nightmare. He couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. He was free floating. Drifting in a sea of dreams.  
What was reality anymore. _Where_ was it. Jim wasn’t sure; not anymore, maybe he never was. No wait...  
That was a lie.  
He did know where reality was.  
It was in the Room. The Room, that held all his real memories, all his real feelings. Jim could feel in the Room. It was almost a welcome relief, the feeling, to the endless nothingness. Emptiness. Numbness.  
Almost.  
...  
**Almost**.  
The Room also held his only scrap of Before.  
Nomura.  
And her whisperings.  
She told him things. Things that shouldn’t made sense, but did. Jim had a feeling that once, sometime in the Before, the things wouldn’t have made sense, didn’t make sense. He would have hated the things she said, tried to stop her from saying them. But now...  
Now was not Before, and Jim couldn’t feel.  
So he listened.  
She told him about someone named Gunmar, the magnificent, the great, the powerful, the Black.  
She told Jim of the Lord’s plans for Earth, about how he would reclaim it, bring it under his just rule. With Gunmar, things would be easier. Simpler. Not so much feeling.  
_Easier. I’d like that_ , thought Jim. _Not so much feeling, I would like that_.  
Maybe Gunmar wasn't so bad. Jim couldn't remember why he had once thought the Dark One could ever be bad. Maybe he wasn't good... but really, who was? No one was perfect, and the Lord was no different. He was not good, but he was not bad either.  
He made sense.  
Anyone that makes sense cannot really be bad...  
Right?  
But still. That incessant little voice, somewhere in the back of his head, kept whispering.  
It was nothing more than a murmur, now, however. Jim had to concentrate to make out individual words, not to mention sentences. And concentrating was difficult, to say the least, at the moment.  
So Jim ignored the voice, and let someone else do the thinking for him.  
Wait... wasn't that bad? Shouldn't, shouldn't people think for themselves?  
_But that's too hard_ , something else, something newer, stronger, **darker** said. _Isn't it easier to just, let go? Let others do the hard, hard work of_ ideas _and_ plans?  
It was... it was absolutely, beautifully easy. To just, let go of everything he used to know, wasn't sure about, and embrace the certainty of Nomura and Gunmar and the voice and _dark and pain and fear..._  
Jim lay awake, in the cold damp cell, after they brought him back. Each night he stayed, in a dazed stupor, unable to fall asleep but unable to remain conscious, somewhere in the border between worlds. The pain didn't fade. Neither did the words. They echoed through his mind, his very being, clanging and thundering, reverberating in his soul. The words, and ideas they represented, beat themselves into Jim's core.  
An indelible mark.  
Now and forever a part of the Trollhunter.

"Three weeks."  
"My Lord, that simply won't-"  
"I said **three weeks** , Stricklander! That's all you get!"  
Bular's roaring echoed throughout the caverns, bouncing back at the two Trolls in the center of the room. Strickler winced as the distorted sound washed over him. He sighed, regarding the hulking Gumm-Gumm in front of him with disdain.  
Bular may have physical strength to spare, but the Troll was ridiculously stupid. Honestly, no one would expect his father to be one of the greatest military tacticians to ever live; but, then again, if Gunmar truly was that smart, he wouldn't be stuck in the Darklands, now would he? But it's not like Strickler was complaining. With the Dark Lord, er, _indisposed_ , it gave the Changelings free reign to rule over the dimwitted son. Truly, Strickler rejoiced at how easy it was to influence the brute, although he had been looking forward to a challenge. Bular was just an overgrown child, prone to tantrums and with no intelligence to speak of.  
Sighing under his breath, Stricklander stepped forward.  
"As I was saying, my _Lord_ ," he mockingly stressed the title, but Bular didn’t notice.  
“Three weeks is not possible. In the past month, we have progressed with the Trollhunter’s conditioning at a far greater pace than we originally anticipated. However, even with such advancement, it is implausible to expect the boy to be ready in three weeks! He needs at least twice that, if not more.”  
Bular narrowed his eyes at the green Changeling. Strickler stood, glowering back at him. The Gumm-Gumm suddenly snorted and stalked closer to his subordinate.  
“What, _precisely_ , are your Impure doing with the human that needs more than _three months_ to complete?” he growled.  
_Very good, so the brute does have some semblance of a brain, at least he asks what his underlings get up to._  
Strickler leveled his stare at the new angle.  
“My Lord, the methods we are using have been proven time and time again to be successful, but again, they need time to work. The long haul will reap greater rewards than a short-term answer, as I’m sure your Excellence already realized.”  
Bular jerked back, wrinkling his nose.  
_Worm out of **that** , you barbarian._  
Unable to say that he had not, in fact, come to that conclusion, Bular narrowed his eyes.  
_Perhaps if you squint harder, you might actually see past your ego._  
Strickler cooly regarded the Gumm-Gumm. If Trolls could flush red, Bular would be the deepest maroon at this point. Finally, he grunted and turned away.  
“Do what you will, Impure. But that boy will have no more than two months to be ready. After that, he is of no value.”  
Strickler inclined his head, bristling internally.  
_Impure. Pah. I didn’t even answer your question and you haven’t noticed._  
With a swish of his cape, the green Troll stalked out of the room. Pausing for a moment outside of the throne room, he made up his mind and turned left. He climbed farther down into the tangled mess of caverns that made up the Arcadia Changeling headquarters. He rounded a corner and came face to face with a massive iron door. The surface was rusted beyond recognition, but if one were to have seen it a century ago, an enormous mural of Gunmar the Black, standing atop a heap of bones, would be glaring down at them.  
The door opened onto a dismal hallway, dripping with damp. Several smaller paths split off from the central one, winding even deeper into the darkness. Stalactites melted down from the ceiling in erratic patterns, waiting to impale some hapless fool that walked by at the wrong moment. Pale white bones proved that, at times, the pointed stones hit their mark. Pittering footsteps of a handful of particularly tenacious rats, and other, slightly larger, things echoed throughout the labyrinth.  
The dungeons of Gunmar.  
_Might as well put up a “stay out” sign. It could even make the place more cheerful._  
Sighing, Strickler walked down the long path. At moments he thought he saw a flash of green or yellow; likely goblins. These caves were swarming with the hideous little creatures.  
_Those tiny bloodsucking beasts **would** love it down here. Vicious and cruel, ugh. And not an ounce of intelligence._  
At last, he reached his destination. Strickler was standing in front of a spiked gate, stretching across a wide hallway. A pale yellow Changeling sat in an alcove, dozing.  
Sighing again, Stricklander rapped sharply on the metal gate. The yellow Troll, startled awake, fell out of the niche. Rubbing their head, they walked up to the bars.  
“Damn it, Strick, why you gotta do that?”  
“Because, Arai, you are supposed to be guarding this door. And I have told you countless times to refer to me as Stricklander, or, better yet, sir, as befits your station.”  
“Aw, c’mon buddy, you and I go way back! Lemme call you Strick, it’s so cute!”  
Stricklander glared at the other Changeling.  
“Geez, you didn’t used to be so uptight. Fine fine, I’ll try to call you Strick less often,” Arai scratched a long horn absentmindedly. “I guess you needed something, huh?” Suddenly, he spun around, grinning wildly. “Or did’ja just come down here to say hi?”  
_You spend too much time disguised as a teenager._  
“Let me through, I must speak with Nomura.”  
“Sure thing, buddy! Bohmra predicted we’d get some new orders today,” as he talked, the yellow Troll clambered awkwardly back up to his alcove and retrieved a ring with seven large and rusty keys on it. He climbed down to Strickler and began trying the keys one by one.  
_I see you still haven’t been able to memorize which key is which. Imbecile._  
“It’s been getting kind of stale, ya know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being down here! I guess you can say it ‘brings out the worst in me’!” He shot finger guns at Strickler, then giggled. Strickler rolled his eyes; yes, definitely far too much time with teenagers.  
“But there’s only one prisoner we can actually bother right now! And Nomura’s been hogging him all to herself,” pouting, Arai finally opened the gate. It creaked open slowly, hinges grating on each other.  
“But anyway, what were the orders? Are we getting new prisoners? Maybe they caught Aaarrrgghhumaunt, the traitorous bastard, ooh, I’d **love** to get my scalpels in him!” A sadistic gleam sparked in the younger Changeling’s eye. Strickler was forcibly reminded of why he never came down here.  
Most Changelings relied on strategy during fights, and only resorted to combat if necessary. Their kind prided themselves on being a more “reasonable” type of Troll. However, every species has its exceptions. Several thousand years ago, Gunmar created the Prison Keep, a guard of Changeling soldiers who acted as wardens in the Black Lord’s many strongholds. And on rare occasion, they would serve as Gunmar’s elite squad. Those sentenced to serve as a Keeper were particularly vicious murderers, whose talents had the possibility to go... awry. They relied on torture and fear tactics to accomplish their goals, and had incredibly violent tendencies. Usually, after some decades of serving, the Keepers would go insane, if they hadn’t been to begin with.  
Every Changeling that was selected was branded with Gunmar’s symbol upon initiation. Keepers practically never left the compound they were assigned to, and it was nearly unheard of for one to end their service.  
Nearly.  
Strickler shuddered as Arai swept past him, grabbing a lantern. The scorch marks, shaped in a pair of sweeping horns and a single eye, on his shoulder just barely visible in the dim light, the yellow Changeling scampered down the hallway.  
The green Troll adjusted his bracelet, subconsciously trying to better cover the brand decorating his own body. Shaking his head, he followed the young Keeper.  
_Young Atlas may find the weight of this world to much to bear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF, that thing abt the Keepers? I thought that little bit up at 3 in the morning in the middle of a lab report (*cough* procrastination much?) and I just???? Had to add it. BUT doN'T WorrY. it will serve an actual purpose, im not just writing little things all over the place.
> 
> Also, I stan Arai and he only has like four lines. I made him up in two minutes and I don't understand how I am more attached to my yellow son than I am to my actually developed ocs.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Next chap** : Toby, and the return of the plot. Also, swords and why Blinky has the Big Dumb.

**Author's Note:**

> UGH JIM YOU IDIOT WHY CAN'T YOU FIGHT BETTER
> 
> also, Nomura will be a large part of this, I love her character too much, and I think she was severely underused in canon ~~and I ship the hell out of her and Draal~~
> 
> Please keep comments appropriate, I'm only 15


End file.
